Tuesday, February 18, 2003

It's snowing again. This is like some kind of weird dream. We gotta be up to 32 inches now, but who's counting after 2 feet? I think my husband and daughter are tired of me, so I may try and walk to the store. The house seems small and I'm the only one cleaning up. Uh-oh, I'm getting edgy.

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.